


Bloody Murder

by Teddydripps



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Different AU, Gen, Hey issa murder mistery, I'll be making art for this one!, It's a weird party, Murder, Takes the view of Wilson(duh), Violence, Who's the killer, doesn't take place in the constant, kinda danganronpa ish, lots of blood, lots of pointing fingers, rip Winona, sorry - Freeform, this has been done too many times but here we go again, vintage asf, will add more tags, woops??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 18:39:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17565887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teddydripps/pseuds/Teddydripps
Summary: That strange letter he had received. Red with the location of an abandoned mansion far in the forests outside of the town.Wear the name tag. Arrive at the party at 6.Survive





	Bloody Murder

**Author's Note:**

> This has been done a lot already BUT I COULDN'T RESIST!
> 
> The idea was there and I've even been working on costumes for the characters! So I had to!
> 
> Plus I love murder mysteries
> 
> I hope you do too!

So there he stood, staring frightfully at the abandoned building ahead of him, the dark paint chipping away and window shutters falling off. The mansion was much larger than he had expected, then again he could never imagine a mansion this deep in the woods. Whoever lived here must have been really wealthy, too, why abandon a place like this? Almost a _castle_. He had quite underestimated the place, his attire seeming casual for the dead building. Yet, with the decrepit look of the wooden steps he found himself walking on, he didn't worry as much. He fixed his black suspenders, which held up the black dress trousers he chose to wear. Tucked in was the nicest white button shirt he had, and the shiniest shoes he owned dress his feet, the trousers rolled up enough to show long black socks hiding his legs. To top it all off, he brought his smoke pipe with him, not that he smoked recently, he choked on the smoke earlier before arriving.  
" _Enter_ ", the note on the door said. Ominous. He knocked anyways before entering slowly, poking his head in and peeking around. Guess he wasn't the only one who was confused as to what to wear for the night, cause an older woman stood at the stairs that spiraled inside, her black gown stretched across the floor, long grey hair poored down her back. On her head was a large flimsy hat, flowers decorated it, along with what he could see as a veil. She turned at the sound of the door creaking, which was Wilson walking in. 

"My apologies, I should've knocked louder." Wilson said softly, looking around the interior of the old building. The walls were dripped in red, though turned brown from age. Bits of the ceiling and objects from shelves, tables, and god knows what else were scattered on the floor. Wilson would find himself tripping over these often tonight. The woman seemed relieved at his presence, a hand on her bosom as the other held a fan."Thank the heavens,someone else arrived. You were invited as well." The statement was less a question than anything, Wilson nodded and revealed his name tag from his pocket.

" _Wilson Percival Higgsbury_ ". The woman read aloud, letting Wilson squirm under the sound of his own name. She nodded and held out her own tag, which read _Elizabeth Wickerbottom_.

"Pleasant to meet you, Mr. Higgsbury." She gave a small bow, to which Wilson returned with a bow of his own," and same to you, Miss. Wickerbottom." Their meeting ended and they looked about, Wilson mostly upstairs,"Is anyone else here?" He looked back to Wickerbottom, who shifted her glasses on her face a bit before shrugging."I've called and called but not a single soul answered as of yet. Perhaps we're early." Wilson squinted up the dark stairs, not really believing they were the only two here at the time. From what he was aware, he was 30 minutes _late_. He looked at the big doors ahead of them, the chestnut wood seeming to be rather cleaned compared to the rest of the building. However, when he walked over and tried the doors, they were locked tight, not even letting a jiggle when Wilson tried. He grunted, seeing no keyhole in the door either. Odd, perhaps something was holding it shut from the other side? Not that he could check, there was no gap to peek through. He glanced back to Wickerbottom, who was watching from her spot by the stairs.

"How long have you been here,Miss?" He made his way back over, he could smell the lavender aura she had. She hummed, whipping open her fan and creating a small breeze on her face,"Not too long before you showed up." Wilson nodded and looked back up the stairs,"We should try upstairs, perhaps we're supposed to be there?" The idea offered no real clarity. Neither of them had a clue, but what else were they to do. He gold gaze met with Wickerbottom's black, and he offered his arm,"Care to join me?" She nodded, taking his arm and the two began to climb the steps carefully, watching their steps on the old staircase that could collapse if not careful. When reaching the dark top, they took turns scoping out where to go, the halls were dark, of course, so they had no clue what could be in them.

_THUMP_

" **OW!** "

Peculiar. But Wilson and Wickerbottom knew better than to not follow the sounds and voices. When reaching the door,there was another loud thud, and then the door opened to a tall-no _giant_ man, his face turned away to others who were apparently in the room.

"I have said not to play so roughly and you ignored me, so we're-" He stopped, now looking down at the two in the hall."Oh, would either of you be the host of this..event?" Wilson examined the taller man, probably about as old as Wickerbottom, maybe younger by a decade. He wore a pure,clean white suit, a single red flower pinned to his chest, over his heart. A large white top hat sat on his head, and his black gloved hands held a smoldering cigar, which stunk. Wickerbottom shook her head,"I would guess you aren't either. What about the others who are with you?"

As if on cue, 3 heads popped up from behind the man, two girls and a...spider? Wilson had to hold his mouth to keep from pointing out the strange sight. Wilson definitely hated spiders, and he could feel himself backing away slightly. The spider squealed, and nearly shoved the man aside to greet the others."Hi!Hello! We're Webber!" He shook Wickerbottom's hand, since Wilson's hands were busy avoiding those furry hands. Wickerbottom smiled awkwardly, patting the spider-child hybrid on it's head. A little girl came forth, but she didn't speak, only stared. The last girl, seems the oldest among the children, probably in her 20s, popped out. Despite her apparent age, she sure did act childish, hopping around. "Say, you two look familiar to me? Ever heard the name "Willow"?

Wilson and Wickerbottom exchanged glances before Wilson spoke,"I'm afraid I haven't." This made Willow snort, and she turned away,"'Course you haven't, damn rich people." She turned down the hall and Webber followed. Wilson watched them, then looked at the little girl who stared at the painting behind him. He hair was down, much like Willow's, except she had a flower in it. She wore a white dress lined in blue stripes, white tights and black mary janes. It came to realization that the Spider-Webber- wore something similar, except shorts and a dress shirt instead of a dress. Their outfits matched the man's who wilted against the door frame. Willow contrasted them, where a rather worn down black dress and dirty shoes. Her hair was probably the most neat looking thing about her appearance, and even then it was messy. 

"So, may we know your name, sir?" Wickerbottom spoke up,her eyes as calm as her composure. The man looked down at her, then reached into his pant pocket to fish out his tag.

_Maxwell Carter_

"Oh, well I'm Elizabeth Wickerbottom, just Wickerbottom,and this is Wilson Higgsbury." The man nodded, not really paying attention as he puffed his cigar. Wickerbottom continued, turning to the little girl,"And your name is?" The girl looked up with nearly white eyes, at least they appeared that way. 

"Wendy Carter." She whispered, her gaze long gone down the hall where the others ran off to. Maxwell nudged her along with a 'go if your gunna', then looked back at the two. Wickerbottom watched the little girl walk, neat and calm."You have a rather grim daughter, is she fine?" Maxwell choked on his cigar for a moment before going into a coughing fit. Wilson just kinda stood, watching all of this while fiddling with the black gloves of his own. After the coughing fit, Maxwell shook his head and answered breathly,"She's not my daughter.She's my niece." Wickerbottom motioned in understanding,straightening herself,"You don't perhaps know if there are others about, do you?" Maxwell shrugged,now calmed. "I saw others earlier but the kids ran up here like wild little beasts, and I found myself having to watch over them. God forbid I know where they are now in this place."

"So-" Wilson began,"-we get invited to an abandon mansion by a host who hasn't shown their face 45 minutes after the time stated in the invitation. Wonderful."

"Thanks for the summary, but I'm aware of our situation, Higgsbury." Maxwell muttered, eyeing him. Wilson could already tell he wasn't gunna like this guy that much, none at all in fact. Wickerbottom could _smell_ the tension between the two,and gave a tug to Wilson's sleeve,"Shall we look around for others now?"Wilson turned his gold gaze from the icy blues to the warm blacks of Wickerbottom, and nodded. The two left the older gentleman be and continued their journey across the halls and down the stairs. Their ventures seemed to meet with no findings, unfortunately. Though, they did find a rather large library, in which Wickerbottom had found herself looking among the shelved books.

"My, it's been awhile since I've seen a grand library like this. I wonder what the former home owner was thinking when leaving such a collection behind?" Wilson couldn't help but to agree, he himself liked to read when he wasn't working on scientific experiments. Though compared to what she was examining, she read more fiction rather than books on actual events, like he would read. Not that he didn't like fiction, but he liked learning about past events and stories of humans who lived and died before him. Especially books on science. Those were his favourite. He didn't expect to see books of his favour here though, science wasn't as big as he had hoped as a child and normal people found science weird. Not to mention his upbringing had tried to force the idea of science being the devil's work and that he had strayed from god by giving his life to science, but he didn't mind that. _He'd do anything in the name of science._

Blinking his way back out of those childhood memories that flooded in, he glanced at the mistress, who had found herself a soft chair and seated, a book in hand. She must have noticed his look of confused,"Oh, I'll be staying here for a bit. Our searches in this old place have gone to no avail and I'm tired." Wilson nodded, understanding. With all the nasty rubbish lying about, along with how long they've been searching,Wilson lost count of the time,he too was tired. Perhaps he could find himself a place to hang out until some event brought excitement to this night. He left the library to Wickerbottom and wandered, unsure where to even begin in his search, this place was massive. He sighed, glancing down the hall to his left. What floor were they on? He forgot already. The place really felt like it never ended. Going on forever and ever, he didn't dare think about attempting to crawl up the stairs that sat at the end of the hall, god knows what he'd run into next. It wasn't even safe here, either, the floor creaked and in some cases bent under his weight, he worried that stepping into the wrong room would leave him trapped with the floor caving in. He didn't want that, no sir.

So downstairs it was, wouldn't hurt to see what the kids were doing. The kids and the oversized kid, Wilson joked in his head. He thought about it, he didn't know any of these people, didn't even recognize them. Why had he been invited? Last he checked, he didn't have friends, his family practically disowned him after his caring father passed away, his mother and brothers refusing to speak to him. He didn't have or know any other family. He didn't leave his home unless it was to get supplies, even then he never spoke to anyone but the shop owner. So why him? He wasn't a rich royal. He wasn't famous. Not that he thought these people were either of those, seeing as how Willow reacted. He didn't get this at all.

So who was the host? A woman? A man? Were they here already? God, bless Wilson's mind, the thoughts tore at him, he was so curious and just had to know. It all felt.. off. He knows a bad gut feeling when he feels one, and there it was then and there. Just then, a loud ringing-like a bell- could be heard from somewhere down the stairs. This startled Wilson, but he made his way swiftly down the steps, eager to see if their questions would be answered. The bell continued and he reached the landing of the main room, his eyes bugging out when he saw the earlier chestnut doors open, and people inside the room. The room was clean, sparkling gold decorations adorned with flowers of all kind. The aroma and bright colors made difference from the whole rest of the run down building. Tables aligned the large room, near the walls. Food, alcohol, other edible treats stacked on treys piled them. Somewhere in the room was a gramophone, playing a tune he somehow felt familiar with but didn't seem to recognize. When he looked up, a huge chandelier dangled over him, each candle lit and gave the room a great glow. Candles on the tables assisted the lighting and the room felt warm and bright. Red curtains hung at random points on the walls, no windows behind them, along with paintings of people he didn't know. His shoes clacked against the polished floor, so clean he could see his reflection in it, enough to fix his hair again. He looked up when he heard other voices, ones he heard and never heard. There stood others, the kids he had met, but then newcomers. 

The first he noticed was a tall but frail man, his hair slicked up and makeup caked his face. He wore a black coat and matching pants, along with shoes, but he wore a bright red scarf around his neck. Next to him was a much larger man with a groomed ginger beard, his brown button shirt clung to him, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he too wore black pants, though instead of neat dress shoes, he wore big boots. Wilson raised a brow at the axe the man held. Odd. A woman was bellowing near the group, seeming to scare them off with her voice, her firey hair tightly wrapped into a bun on her head, a nearly matching warm orange and red dress draped on her,and, again with boots. At least Wilson wasn't the only one... The woman following behind her didn't wear a dress, but rather casual wear, grey overalls with a black turtle neck, her hair short and neat. 

Behind him came more voices.Maxwell, Wickerbottom, and two others. A man, much larger than the ginger, boomed as he followed beside the other three,his suit something you'd think was a costume with how dressy it was,his coat hung on his shoulders and his pants were a tad too short, at least he managed to look nice. A tall woman seemed to be looking at him, he noticed, her raven black hair done up, her gown snug against her hourglass shape as her red lips smiled. She walked to him, the three behind her following suit.

His voice was dry when she got close, the smell of roses smothering him,"A-are you the hostess?" She laughed and shook her head,"No no, I'm not. I just arrived. With that I'm guessing the host isn't here?" Wilson shook his head and glanced around the room at the people he didn't know, then to the ones he did. She only sighed and continued on,"Do you happen to at least know _why_ we're hear?" Wilson lowered his head and shook it again,"No, M'am,I don't."

"M'am." She repeated idly, then smiled sweetly, raising her hand out to shake his,"Please,call me Charlie. Just Charlie." He blinked, then smiled loosely back,"I'm Wilson, nice to meet you, Charlie." He gave her hand a gentle shake before their meeting was broken up by Maxwell's strangely forced coughing nearby. Charlie gave him a look before apologizing to Wilson and following the others. He watched, and that's when he saw it. A walking machine. He didn't see it before, but now that some of the people scattered, he could see it stand there, it's face emotionless. He nearly ran as he went to it, the machine looking at him up and down.HE cleared his throat, making sure others were busy in their conversations before asking,"Are you a real machine?"

The machine puffed, almost seemed as if it was frowning at the question,"WHY WOULD IT BOTHER YOU?" Wilson could feel excitement build in him, did one of these people create this robot? Maybe a fellow scientist? Oh how he wanted to know. His night truly got interesting,"Who made you??" The robot turned away,"I HAVE NO REASON TO TELL A FLESHLING." 

Wilson pouted when it walked away. But a robot! With human-like responses! Rather _rude_ responses but responses none the less. He's have to ask later then.

-0-0-0-0-0-

He stood alone again, the usual. He wasn't a partier anyways, not that this was a party. It was more like a large introduction between several groups of people, except Wilson was apart of none of it. He didn't care, his excitement died down and he now wanted to go home more than anything. Over the time of listening, he learned all their names. There was, of course, Wickerbottom, Wendy, Willow, Webber(To whom he avoided very much so),and Maxwell. He learned that the mute mime was named Wes,and the fellow that seemed to hang around boredly was Woodie. The two girls were Wigfrid and Winona, then there was Wolfgang,Charlie and WX, the robot. Again, people he didn't know. Who _were_ these people? Why was _he_ here? Everyone seemed to get along nicely, Maxwell, despite his sour mood, seemed to gather a bit of a group including Charlie, the kids, and Wolfgang. The other group was pretty much everyone else, and in the middle was himself. The wallflower. It was better this way anyways, Wilson wasn't at all as interesting as some of these people, from what he heard so far. Maxwell was apparently a magician. The scientist didn't believe in magic himself but magic, for whatever reason, was way more accepted than science was. At least in his family. Wigfrid was an actress, and a proud one too. Wolfgang was a strongman for a circus. So on, just more proof that Wilson was nothing interesting compared to them. They were all known to an audience, unlike the shut in Wilson was, every time he had tried showing someone the power of science, he'd get scolded for it being too dangerous or worthless. The reason he never went anywhere really, he wanted to prove them wrong and make a huge finding of some sort, or invent something that would do humanity some good. That hasn't happened yet, and he didn't believe it would. He could only envy the others while the voices of his mother echoed his head, telling him that he was crazy for giving up everything for something as foolish as science, and that only satanists became scientists. To that was her nickname for him,'Little Satanist'. He wasn't surprised, looking back on it. She did catch him cutting rats and bugs and other small critters open, and fear that her son was becoming a crazy serial killer. His father didn't see it like that, though. He didn't see it as good, but after mother switched Wilson, his father would join him and talk about how unprofessional it was for a young scientist to get his hands dirty without proper training. This always made Wilson feel better, how caring and supportive his father was compared to his mother. Of course he drank too, a lot, but he loved and cared much for the runt of his children. The smallest out of 3 boys, often bullied and pushed around by the two older, and his mother, father protected the littlest.

He was gone now. Long gone and Wilson was never allowed to visit his grave in his home town. Wasn't allowed to attend the funeral, as much as Wilson wanted to, and it distressed him greatly. Most of was on his father's will was left for Wilson, as well, which only angered his family more. The last thing his father ever told him was to keep going despite what others said. His father left as his son was forced to leave the room in tears.

Just thinking about it made Wilson upset. He missed his father, the only person in his life that supported him so much, would do anything for him like a proper parent would. But he was gone. At least physically. Wilson didn't believe in much, not magic, not strange monsters, but he believed in ghosts, and he believed his father was still with him. 

He opened his eyes to see Willow standing over him, her eyes narrowed at him. He blinked a few times before looking else where, confused as to why she was in his space. She didn't move though, even when she spoke,"You look sad." No duh. Wilson looked at her and frowned, straightening himself, though he couldn't reach her height. She crossed her arms," Not gunna talk about it? You're all by yourself rather than with the others." Wilson shook his head.

"I don't mingle with others."He looked at the food table, wondering how good the food was seeing that the host had yet to show, and probably wasn't. He turned and went in that direction, only for Willow to follow,"What about you? You bored here as well?"

"Yeah." She admitted, she too was looking at the food, snatching up a roll and biting into it before Wilson could check that they were even fresh. Her eyes widen and she took another bite. Must have been good then. He picked up a roll and took a bit into his mouth. It.. tasted like normal bread to him. He wasn't sure why she was scarfing it down and reaching for another. Though he wouldn't ask. She looked at him, then at the roll in his hand, then back at him,and through a mouth full of bread,"Are you going to eat that??" Wilson blinked, then looked at the roll he bit into. She didn't seem to care about that though, so he handed it to her, and she thanked him. The scientist turned his attention to where the drinks were. There was water, of course, he could guess juice, from the fruity scent, and bottles of alcohol. He wasn't really a drinker, something he never took from his father, so he went for the juice. It was indeed fresh, as to how this was, he didn't know, but the grape flavour was good nonetheless. He stood and sipped, listening to the music...wait, who was running the music? The gramophone was left by itself, untouched as far as he was aware. Now he was really curious. He set the drink down and walked to the gramophone, ignoring Willow's confused stares.

There the machine sat, blasting music as it should. The needle was all the way at the start, however. No, this was..weird. He looked around, stopping to see Willow had yet again followed him."Have you reset the gramophone at all?" She shook her head, her eyes said genuine confusion. She looked around with him, then back at the machine."How long have we been in here for?"Wilson asked, and she swallowed and responded,"I have no clue-,"She turned to the crowd,"-Hey does anyone know what time it is!?"Wilson wasn't ready for the yelling but it was whatever.It was Woodie who answered, his accent heavy,"Almost 8."

It was almost 8?? Had they really been here that long? He looked back at the gramophone, now really bothered. Willow could sense this, and was looking that the hand's needle,"So someone else is here?" She looked at Wilson, and Wilson looked back before going to the crowd,"Hey,um, have any of you been messing with the gramophone at all?" Everyone blinked and looked at eachother, then at the gramophone, then to him. Some just shook their heads, some voiced 'no',giving questioning looks. Wilson was now anxious as he went back over the the machine, looking around it and even bothering to pick it up. Nothing, absolutely nothing. It was a normal gramophone, not rigged or anything.

"Well what is it,Higgsbury?"Maxwell huffed, his arms crossed over his chest as he glided over. Wilson gulped and pointed at the machine,"We've been here, in this room for over an hour, and not a single one of you switched or moved the needle?" Everyone seemed concerned now, some looking at the machine while others waited for Wilson to continue. Something was off, not right, someone was here but didn't show their face. When Wilson looked around the room, other eyes followed. He looked for any signs of other doors, openings, places for someone to hide. He even looked under the table cloths, but found not a single soul. "We should leave, something isn't right at all." He voiced, looking back at the others. Wickerbottom nodded in agreement, her fan held tight in her fan,"I agree, if there is someone here, who isn't showing their face, this could mean trouble."

"So we leave!" Willow chirped and began out of the room towards the front door, the others following suit. She reached the door, but the door didn't open."Say,pal, we ARE trying to leave,yknow." Willow snarled at Maxwell,"I _knoowww_ , but the door won't open!" Wigfrid piped up now,"What do you mean??""I think she means exactly that."Said Winona. "So we push door down!" Bellowed Wolfgang, who moved everyone aside and tried the door with all his might.

It didn't open.

"Impossible.." The strongman muttered, never had a **door** beaten him before.Wickerbottom sighed and looked around,"We should try windows and other doors and see if they open, perhaps we could find our way out that way."Everyone seemed to like that idea, and they scattered, some upstairs, most downstairs, hoping for an opening that didn't involve breaking bones. Wilson was amongst them, testing windows, only for them to be sealed tight. Willow was in a room near and he could hear her groaning. Panic slowly set in, who ever else was here had locked them in. For what reason, he still had no clue.

"Wilson, help me break this window!" Willow called, and he came to her voice. He looked at the glass, then the chair that sat at its desk. Picking it up, he threw it as hard as he could at the window, only for it to bounce back."May need to not throw it this time, step back, would you."Willow did as told and watched as Wilson rammed the wood against the window several times. The window did not break, in fact, not even a dent was found in the glass.

"Dear mother of science.."He exclaimed, both he and Willow wide eyed."What are we going to do?" She asks, and he doesn't even know where to begin to answer that one. He wasn't given a chance to answer when a scream was heard, loud and shrill. The two sat frozen, the scream came from somewhere above them, along with footsteps, and they soon found themselves rushing to see what happened.

There sat Charlie, sitting on the floor and almost hyperventilating, her finger pointing into the room next to her. Wilson pushed past the others, noticing that Wickerbottom was moving the children away from the scene. This wasn't good. He expected to see a dead animal or something, but he joined Maxwell to a horrific sight.

In the tub lay Winona, her eyes open yet dead, her lips parted. Blood pooled around her, all from a huge gash in her chest. Wilson covered his mouth, looking elsewhere for a moment before looking back at the body. He paused, blinking a couple of times. Was that..?

"Wilson what in the bloody hell do you think you are doing??" Maxwell was trying his best not to grab Wilson before he realized that the shorter man fished out a paper from the blood spill. Upon opening it, the others still outside the door, he read;

" _Someone in this mansion has murdered me. You have 48 hours to find out who killed me, and if you fail.._

 _ **Everyone dies**_."

**Author's Note:**

> I literally was listening to the Don't starve together soundtrack while reading this so yippee


End file.
